


Smart Mouth

by Fr333bird



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Marking, Necks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:18:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fr333bird/pseuds/Fr333bird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur isn't particularly fond of Merlin's neckerchiefs, mainly because they cover Merlin's beautiful neck.  But one day he finds a new use for them. Canon era.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smart Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> I posted this on FFnet a while ago and forgot to add it here. I'm trying to make sure everything is up to date on AO3 as it's my new favourite place on the internet :)

Arthur loathes Merlin's neckerchiefs. They look ridiculous for a start, but more annoyingly they cover up that beautiful, pale expanse of skin that Arthur loves. And somehow, because Arthur can't _see_ the skin that he craves, it's all he can think about.

As Merlin leans over to fill Arthur's cup with wine, Arthur catches the scent of Merlin that he's so intimately familiar with, and his eyes lock onto the column of Merlin's neck where it emerges from the rusty red fabric that's carelessly knotted there. Looking closely, Arthur can see the hint of a bruise -- the mark of his teeth from the night before -- and his cock starts to fill, lying thick on his thigh. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat and reaches down to adjust himself.

“Sire?” Merlin's voice interrupts memories of sweat-slick skin under his lips, and the arch of Merlin's lean body beneath his own, and Arthur realises that Merlin's speaking to him.

“What?” Arthur drags his gaze up to meet knowing blue eyes.

Merlin licks his lips before he speaks again, reminding Arthur of more things that he would rather not be thinking about while he has a banquet to get through. The urge to drag Merlin up to his chambers now and slake the heat that's rising in his groin is almost overwhelming.

“Can I get you anything else, Sire?” Merlin's eyes are full of matching fire. He leans close and his breath washes warm over Arthur's cheek as he murmurs softly. “I know what you really want, but you'll have to wait for that.”

Arthur hisses in a breath and jerks away, glaring at his manservant-become-lover. He suspects that some of his knights are aware of their dalliance – Arthur doesn't like to admit to himself how much more it is than that – but he is still careful to hide the nature of their relationship in front of the court.

“No thank you, Merlin,” Arthur replies, trying to keep his voice smooth and hide his irritation. Damn Merlin and his clever mouth. He tortures Arthur with it both in the bedchamber and outside it, and Arthur knows that Merlin loves the effect he has on his king.

Merlin inclines his head politely, but his mouth curves subtly, mischievously. “As you wish, Sire.” He turns and walks away, and Arthur tries and fails to resist the urge to ogle his tight little arse over those long coltish legs that wrap so beautifully around Arthur's hips, like they're made for it.

Merlin is relentless for the rest of the feast. He takes every opportunity to tease Arthur as he serves him, whispering in his ear every time he leans over Arthur to fill his cup or add more food to his plate.

“I know you're hard, Sire, I can tell.”

Then a little later: “I can still feel you from last night, you know.”

Later still: “I bet your cock's wet by now; I'd like to taste it.”

Arthur bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from growling at that. Merlin's right of course, he's so sticky with precome that it almost feels as if he's spent himself in his breeches already. And his cock aches so much that Arthur almost wishes he had -- it would be more comfortable than this.

The long evening finally comes to an end and Arthur rises from his seat, a little unsteady from the alcohol. He's thankful for the heavy fabric of his tunic that covers his predicament. He barely resists grabbing Merlin by his neckerchief and dragging him along. He catches his eye and Merlin joins him immediately, outwardly calm and solicitous as he plays the role of the perfect servant. But the flush that paints his cheeks and the glitter of his eyes tells Arthur that Merlin is impatient too. This little game that he's been playing has affected him just as much as it has Arthur.

As soon as the doors to the hall close behind them, Arthur takes Merlin's wrist in a bruising grip and pulls him along the corridors at breakneck speed.

He pauses once they reach a safe alcove, pooled in darkness, and grabs Merlin's neckerchief, pulling him close and twisting the material until it tightens around Merlin's neck, making his breathing hitch. “You little tease,” Arthur hisses. “What are you trying to do to me? Do you _want_ me to bend you over the table and show them just how much you like to be fucked? Because believe me I was this close to doing it.” He pinches his fingers together and thrusts them into Merlin's face.

Merlin just grins and huffs out a laugh. “That would keep Camelot in gossip for the next year.”

Arthur growls in frustration and lowers his head, crushing their lips together in a brutal kiss until he has to pull away to catch his breath. He tightens his grip on Merlin's wrist, feeling the fine bones beneath the skin as he resumes their hurried journey through the dim, torch-lit corridors of the castle.

When they reach Arthur's bedchamber he tosses Merlin unceremoniously onto his bed and stands over him for a moment, looking down at the beautiful, infuriating man spread out carelessly on the deep red covers. Merlin smiles back at him expectantly, seemingly content to wait for Arthur to decide what he wants to do with him.

“You're impossible,” Arthur glares at him again. Then he moves, stripping off his own clothes and tossing them aside before starting on Merlin's. He crawls over him, fumbling with laces, tugging impatiently. Merlin wriggles and helps, shucking off his breeches and letting Arthur pull his shirt over his head as he straddles Merlin's hips. Their hard cocks brush together tantalizingly. The neckerchief is the only thing left, Arthur curses as his fingers slip on the knot. “Damn thing... can't get it off.”

“You've only got yourself to blame,” Merlin points out. “Since you were the one dragging me around by it.”

The fact that he's right just makes Arthur more annoyed. “It's a stupid thing anyway,” he grumbles as he tries to work it off over Merlin's head, pushing it up and starting to ease if over his chin. “They look ridiculous, I don't know why you wear them.”

Merlin smirks. “To cover your bite marks mainly these days. I look as though I've been permanently mauled. You can never leave my neck alo... mmph.” His words are cut off at the neckerchief gets caught in his open mouth.

“Well that's an improvement,” Arthur grins wickedly, but the sight of Merlin gagged like that sends a jolt of heat to his belly. He pins Merlin's wrists to the bed as he dives down to lick and suck at the neck that's finally revealed to him. Merlin lets out a muffled moan as Arthur bites down and sucks a new red mark on Merlin's pulse point. Arthur pulls back but doesn't release Merlin's wrists from his grip. Merlin scowls at him, but his pupils are blown dark and his cock is slippery-wet against Arthur's belly as Arthur ruts against him. “Nod if it can stay on.” Arthur wants to be sure before he continues.

There's a long pause.

Then Merlin nods his head once as he cants his hips upwards, his request as clear as though he'd spoken.

“Don't move,” Arthur instructs and moves swiftly to reach for the oil. He returns and Merlin spreads his thighs wide, welcoming him back. His eyes are hot and hungry in his pale face, the red slash of the neckerchief clamped tightly in his mouth, the dark stain of his saliva spreading like blood through a bandage. His body is taut, every lean muscle visible as he strains to keep still as Arthur has requested. “Good,” Arthur purrs leaning over him and trailing kisses down Merlin's torso, brushing feather-light over his nipples, the cage of his ribs, the trail of dark hair leading down to his flushed cock. Merlin trembles under the touch and whimpers softly, a desperate little sound. Arthur sucks just the tip of Merlin's cock into his mouth and licks around it carefully, needing to taste. But he pulls away soon, making Merlin moan again, his hips chasing Arthur's mouth.

Arthur chuckles and shakes his head. “Not today, Merlin. I want you to come when I'm inside you.”

Merlin's hips buck again and he bites down on the fabric, his eyes fixed on Arthur's fingers as he slicks them up with oil until they gleam in the dim light of the chamber.

Arthur traces his fingers behind Merlin's balls, slow and teasing. He circles Merlin's hole with not-quite enough pressure that has Merlin keening. The muscle flutters under Arthur's fingertips, trying to draw him inside.

“Mmm- _mmph_!” Merlin protests, the impatient tone is unmistakable and his eyes glare, hot and bright.

Arthur doesn't want to wait too long either, his goal is to inflict just enough teasing to get his revenge on Merlin for the earlier part of the evening. What he really wants is to be balls-deep in Merlin, fucking him into sweaty oblivion until they're both spent and limp with exhaustion.

He pushes in, deep and sudden, with one finger and no warning. The shocking heat of Merlin makes a groan fall from Arthur's lips as Merlin arches and splays his legs wider, clenching around the intrusion. Arthur doesn't waste time now, pulling out and pushing back in with two fingers, to twist and stretch and curl until Merlin's practically sobbing, begging with his body if not with his voice. The makeshift gag is clamped between his teeth and his head thrown back, sinews straining. Arthur's cock twitches against his belly, wet and dripping onto the bed in sticky strands.  
He can't wait any more.

Arthur pulls his fingers out and fists his cock with his hand, making it slippery with oil and precome and then he lines up and presses into Merlin with one long, relentless thrust, and they both groan at the wild pleasure of it. Merlin curls up to meet him, those long legs encircling Arthur's hips and drawing him in – _closer, deeper, more_. Arthur obliges, leaning down to suck on Merlin's collarbones and bite on that beautiful, pale neck, reading the language of Merlin's body and realising he knows exactly what Merlin wants – what he _needs_ – even without that cheeky mouth to tell him.

Arthur fucks him hard and fast, pushing Merlin's thighs back so he can get in deeper as he feels his impending release rising hot in the pit of his belly and the tingle of his balls. He knows that Merlin's on the brink too, whimpering and twisting beneath him, cock flushed with the skin stretched shiny-tight. Arthur gets a hand free to grasp it, tugging roughly in time with his thrusts and soon enough Merlin bucks and groans around the soaked fabric of the neckerchief as he spills warm-wet over Arthur's hand.

The pulse of Merlin's body around him makes Arthur come too, with a hoarse cry of Merlin's name. His cock kicks deep inside as the pleasure rips through him, fierce and bright.

Arthur slumps, panting onto Merlin's chest, and almost slips from consciousness for a moment until Merlin brings him back with the gentle pressure of fingertips tracing through the sweat that's pooled at the small of Arthur's back. Merlin makes a little humming sound, pleased and sated, and Arthur raises his head to smile fondly at him.

“Mmm mmph?” Merlin raises his eyebrows questioningly, and Arthur reaches for the neckerchief and pulls it all the way up and over Merlin's head.

“Thank you,” Merlin murmurs, his lips swollen and red from the pressure.

Arthur kisses him; gently at first, and then not-so-gently as Merlin parts his lips and turns the sweet exchange into something dirtier, needier. Merlin knows how to kiss. Arthur knew there was a drawback to the gag. It might keep Merlin quiet, but his mouth... Dear God, Arthur can't get enough of it. When they finally separate Arthur's breathless again and his cock is thickening already, still trapped inside his lover's body.

Arthur shifts, slips free with a sigh, and rolls off Merlin, flopping onto his back and pulling Merlin close again, heedless of the mess they've made.

Merlin curls in even closer, winding his limbs around Arthur to hold him tight. And as he whispers Arthur's name, soft and sleepy against his skin, Arthur reflects that Merlin's mouth actually has many advantages after all – and maybe his neckerchiefs aren't all bad either.


End file.
